Most days I really like being the Mommy. The only problem with being the Mommy is this: every complaint, every concern, every problem drops directly in my lap. For some reason, no one calls the Baby Daddy when there are issues; they call me, the Mommy. When said problems are reported to the Baby Daddy, he is full of questions I might have asked, responses I could have given, and information I should have acquired. It’s really helpful.
There is a particular woman at Monkey Boy’s school who is very good at making her complaints known. She corners me when it’s time for me to pick up Monkey Boy to tell me all the reasons she is so over his charm. She has lots of useful advice for me as the Mommy on how I can raise him better. Most of it includes talking to him about four hours after an incident. (Kids are like dogs at this age, if you don’t catch them WHILE they are peeing on the carpet, forget it; they have.) She was particularly incensed about an incident where Monkey Boy put a bean up his nose. I laughed when she told me. Judging by the look on her face, that was not the correct response.
I would take her seriously except for two things: 1) the four other people who work in the classroom say that, while difficult and annoying at times, he’s basically fine. 2) I talked to the other moms of boys in his class. We’re all getting the same reports: same complaints, same issues. Although she did vary it a bit with one mom to diagnose her son with oppositional defiance disorder. She looked it up on the Internet and printed out information for her. Thoughtful.
So today when the caller ID showed I’d missed a call from his school, I was pretty sure what it was about. But I couldn’t get through on the line when I called back. Then the Baby Daddy called me. When the Charmer couldn’t get in touch with me on the phone, she called him. At work. She listed all her complaints again. Her solution again included talking to him after the fact. Baby Daddy was not happy to lose 15 minutes of a work day to be told his three-year-old acts like a three-year-old. He launched into a rant about how annoying it was that she called with no actionable items and no clear purpose, but to complain.
I was really helpful. I brought up all kinds of questions he might have asked, responses he could have given and information he should have acquired. He was not amused. Welcome to the Mommyland!